


We Made It

by Electric_Dragon



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Love Confessions, M/M, Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), Scene: The Bus Stop (Good Omens), Sleepy Cuddles, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), after armageddon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electric_Dragon/pseuds/Electric_Dragon
Summary: Another fic about what happens right after armageddon is avertedHope you enjoy!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 33





	1. The walk to the bus stop

They had stopped armageddon. Crowley still couldn’t believe it. They had risked so much already, and he thought that those would be the last moments of his 6000 years. 6000 years of hiding, trying to fit into hell, moving fast in life, following human trends, and pining after an angel who he was forbidden to speak with. Aziraphale... he hadn’t even been able to confess his feelings to him, but there was no time, still too much to lose. 

And then the world didn’t end.

The realization still hadn’t truly settled. He had been dreading this moment his entire life, and now that it was over it still didn’t feel safe. After all, their head offices had still promised to come for them, and if they even touched Aziraphale... 

Get it back together, Crowley scolded himself mentally, you have the prophecy and this can’t be the last night you have. There’s still so much to say, so many unspoken words. One night would never be enough, not even one night of freedom. You just lost Aziraphale, you can’t lose him again.

Crowley gritted his teeth and looked down as he and his angel began walking out of the airbase, currently wishing he had the courage or thought to reach for his hand. The bookshop fire still weighed heavily on him. Thinking that Aziraphale was gone forever, that he would never see his smile again, the joy on his face, was enough for him to wish the world would end right there and then. He couldn’t even imagine a reality where he didn’t show up to get the angel out of trouble, or not eating out with him and watching his face light up at the flavours and textures of his meals. Without conscious thought, he began to shake with unshed tears and nervousness built up that hadn’t shown itself since that moment in the shop. He cursed his corporation for showing this.

Abruptly, Aziraphale stops and gently places his hand over Crowley’s shoulder, still looking in shock himself and tired. “My dear, what’s wrong?” Crowley freezes up, he never said ‘my dear’ without adding ‘fellow’ at the end. It managed to shake him partly out of the daze, just enough to give a response while still staring fixedly at the ground. “M’ fine angel, I just...” he sighed loudly, wishing that he was alone to deal with this and yet never wanting to leave Aziraphale’s side again. He felt Aziraphale give his shoulder a light squeeze and could feel him looking at him. He still had his sunglasses on, he realized, so it’s more safe to look up. He slowly began to lift his gaze until he was looking into the angel’s eyes, which were full of concern for him. “Tell me” Aziraphale whispered soothingly. “Please Crowley, I can-“ 

“I’m thinking about you okay Aziraphale? And the bloody bookshop. I can’t get the... the fire out of my head and you... not being there any more and I... I just... m’ a demon I shouldn’t be dealing with this like I am but I was bloody terrified angel. I thought I lost my best friend... my only friend.” He admitted, trying to take a deep breath without Aziraphale seeing, which proved to be challenging. 

Aziraphale sucked in a breath, looking confused, then surprised before giving another look of worry. Did he not know he was Crowley’s only friend? Did he not know how much he cared about him? Maybe he thought he actually meant what he said at the bandstand. He felt a pang of guilt at that thought, and he realized he still hadn’t apologized for saying that he wouldn’t even think of him in the stars. This was very un-demonic of him, but he found he didn’t really care. He never had, really. It was all appearances, and he knew it was the same for the angel, even if not in the same way.

He suddenly felt Aziraphale take his hand, and he was sure that he held in a breath. His hand was so warm, so comforting, as if they had done this before and not both waiting for the other to reject the contact. “Crowley,” he breathed, “I’m here my dear. I promise. And I’m never leaving again. We will make it out of this, and I will figure out this prophecy. You will not be harmed by Heaven nor Hell, not if I can save you. You’ve done so much for me, and I’m terribly sorry about not leaving with you to Alpha Centauri, I could’ve-“

“Oi don’t apologize for that!” Crowley stated abruptly, “I was an idiot to suggest it. The Earth would’ve been destroyed if we’d left, and you would either be harmed by heaven or, or the war would start and we’d have to fight each other...” he swallowed nervously even at the thought. He could never harm his angel. “And by the way I’m sorry too. I should’ve never said what I did. I didn’t mean any of it. I would’ve... I do uhh... think of you... ngk a lot” Crowley knew he was blushing, again cursing his corporation.

Aziraphale blushed too and gave a small, exhausted smile. “Well, I’m glad we cleared that up. I believe we’re even, as the humans say.”

Crowley gave a small smile too at that, “yeah, I guess we are.”

“And Crowley?” He started as they began walking again.

“Yeah angel?”

“I’m here.”


	2. The Bus Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale’s conversation at the bus stop after stopping armageddon
> 
> From Aziraphale’s perspective

“My dear,” Began Aziraphale, carefully breaching the subject after the events of the day, “might we… get a bus to home?” He worried about how Crowley was fairing since his car was destroyed. He had looked utterly heart broken, and he only interrupted him because of that dreadful incident with the guard. Oh, he does hope that poor fellow was well, but saving the world was on the top of his mind at that moment. He was the nice one after all!

Although he never mentioned it, he was also fighting for control of the corporation from Madame Tracy, who still had some influence while he possessed her. She was most kind about the whole ordeal, Aziraphale believed, but still felt determined to put in her good word. She felt his reluctance to send that man to an unspecified location (hopefully on Earth), which she shared, making it harder to do the miracle. The humans had such free will, it astonished him!

Crowley stayed quiet for a moment, and if Aziraphale hadn’t known him for 60 centuries he might not have noticed the muscle twitches in his face, showing his sadness and pain beneath the shield of his glasses. He had been through so much already, and he still felt guilt for siding with heaven all these years, even if they had both known it wasn’t genuine. So much they couldn’t show, so much-

“N’yeah angel sounds… s’fine” Crowley blurted out suddenly, stopping his train of thought. He wanted to reach out again, to comfort him, but for one of the only times in his existence he was so, so tired. He was also still hesitant. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still a hostage in heaven. This couldn’t be real, they couldn’t be free. Then again, it did feel all too ineffable.

Their hands had separated when they had reached the liquor shop, miraculously still open at this time of night. Wine, or food for that matter, just didn’t taste the same when snapped into existence. Crowley now held a lovely bottle of red as they walked in the moonlit sky to the bus stop, and it could be their last…

No. Aziraphale would figure out this prophecy. After all he had been collecting books of prophecy for centuries! He had faith in Agnes Nutter. This would not be the last night he got to spend with Crowley. Although if it was...

At last they reached the bus stop, and Aziraphale put the box containing the horsemen’s items in the middle of the bench. He was still in shock, and purposely made it so he couldn’t sit directly next to Crowley because he wasn’t sure what he’d do in his small stupor. Would he reconnect their hands? More importantly, would Crowley reciprocate? He decided he was too tired to deal with that at the moment. The wine would sure take care of it. He’d be feeling tip-top in no time.

They shared the bottle talking mainly about what had just happened, and their prophecy. Crowley took a swig.

“Angel,” he started, gulping at the start of the word from the wine in a way that made Aziraphale’s heart flutter, “What if She planned it like this? From the very beginning?”

He thought about it for a moment, taking the bottle from Crowley. He was perking up just a tad bit more, although still felt exhausted. “Could have,” he stated, “I wouldn’t put it past Her.”

Not long after the delivery express man came to pick up the package the angel knew the bus was sure to be there soon. Crowley kept looking at him over his sprawl, and although he did the same while he ate, especially in these coming centuries, this one gaze felt different; full of open adoration. It was enough for Aziraphale to melt into a puddle and he felt a delicate blush creep up to his cheeks.

“Ah, here comes it now.” Aziraphale said as the blue bus emerged over the small slope. Then he furrowed his brows in confusion, “It says Oxford at the front.”

“N’yeah but it’ll drive to London anyways, it just won’t know why.” Crowley replied, looking intently at the bus as well. 

“I suppose I should get them to drop me off at the bookshop” and immediately Crowley turned his head around, his gaze as soft as melting butter in order to prepare him for what he was about to say. And then the angel realized… “It burned down, remember?” 

Realization struck him in the chest, and overloading grief replaced his mind. His home for 200 years, millennia of knowledge gone, all because of a human with manners such were hardly proper…

“You can stay at my place, if ya like” Crowley offered, his soft, unusually gentle voice breaking.

Aziraphale registered this after a moment and immediately swung his head around to look at him again. He would absolutely love to, in fact he had been picturing himself walking into Crowley’s flat, where the demon spent his time when not planting demonic wiles… it sounded so kind of a suggestion, even if Crowley may not let him say that outloud just yet. However…

“I… don’t think my side would like that” he was so disappointed, and he was sure it showed in his voice.

Crowley just continued gazing at him as the bus pulled up, “you don’t have a side anymore. We’re on our own side.” He signalled for the bus.

Such small words, and yet so huge of a statement. Aziraphale was free, free with Crowley, and he could do what he wished now. It had only caught up to him now, the true significance of what that meant, and yet all he could do was stare forward in shock until he heard a familiar, distant voice. 

“Are you coming, angel?”


	3. The bus ride/Crowley’s flat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions are made
> 
> Starting with Crowley’s POV and switching later to Aziraphale’s

“We’re on our own side,” Crowley tried to put as much meaning into those few words as he could. It was a lot to take in, and he was still thinking about it as he climbed into the nearly empty bus. It had been a long day, his bentley was gone. He decided he could grieve later, knowing that if he was going to tell Aziraphale how he felt, it was tonight or never.

As he sat down, he felt Aziraphale place his hand over his own before taking his seat. Next to him. Not in a different row to avoid looking conspicuous. Well, that was new, and he couldn’t contain his smile. No more hiding. If Aziraphale was comfortable with hand holding, he would be more than happy to as well. It gave him hope, but he was quick to try and vanish it. Things had never been easy, never been straightforward for him. Yet here they were, side by side on a bus to his flat, after saving the world.

So, after a few moments he took the leap. Slowly, Crowley turned his hand over, gently interlacing their fingers and taking a deep, calming breath at knowing Aziraphale was safe, reassured by the security and warmth of his angelic palm.

They rode in mainly silence, and at some point later, Aziraphale had leaned his head on Crowley’s shoulder. Even for someone who rarely slept, the day was exhausting; an armageddon’t can do that to you.

Crowley felt his eyes drooping, and only moments later did he come to rest his own head on the angel’s bed of fluffy white curls, letting their shoulders and knees touch.  
Their warm breaths ghosted over each other’s faces, closer than they’d ever come before. Against his will, Crowley felt himself drifting off into a dreamless haze.

—————————————————————

“Crowley, dear?” He heard a voice call in the light, and felt a hand gently gripping his left shoulder. “Crowley we’re here, at your flat in Mayfair.” 

He slowly opened his eyes to find his angel, who was gazing down at him affectionately. His head still rested on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and their hands were still laced together, like a lifeline. He was gently rubbing circles into Crowley’s palm, and it made him feel… warm, which was a peculiar feeling for a cold blooded creature so used to living in the darkness of hell.

They had never been allowed, never able to do something so simple as this. He remembered Aziraphale’s quick, stolen glances at him over the millenia, which were so fleeting and they couldn’t risk more. But now? He was pretty sure he had been looking at him for the past few minutes he was asleep. 

He didn’t feel very rested, but it did give him enough energy to get up and form some coherent thoughts. Together, Crowley leads them to his flat.

——————————————————————

When they reached his floor, Crowley locked the door and turned to face Aziraphale, an unreadable expression on his face. “Give me a moment, I… need to take care of something quickly.” Aziraphale hears shuffling and multiple snaps of miracles being performed in the office room. How odd, he bemuses, and looks around the room. He had never been to Crowley’s flat before, and as he suspected, it wasn’t much of a home. Modern and minimalist. It felt more of a prison or abandoned mansion rather than a living space. He didn’t mind, however, as all he cared about at the moment was Crowley. 

He was all he had left, the only person he had ever cared for, even if he couldn’t show it.

Behind him he hears more shuffling. “Angel,” Crowley breathed. Aziraphale turned around and was immediately pulled into a light, warm hug. His breath caught, and he realized he had been standing there in shock for a second, now taking in that Crowley was giving him the opportunity to pull away.

As soon as his mind came online again he threw his arms around his demon, gripping him tighter and inviting him to do the same. “Angel,” Crowley whispers again, his voice breaking. “My darling,” Aziraphale hears his unnecessary but steady heartbeat, pounding heavily in his chest, a reminder that Crowley was safe, and in his arms.

They stayed like that for a minute, moments passing of simply listening to each other’s heavy breathing before their tears began to flow, soaking into each other’s waistcoats and neither one caring. They cried happily, sadly and fearfully, their feelings overloaded from the most impactful day of their six millenia. Their breathing calmed, falling into synch and grounding them. Carefully, they pulled away but still held each other as they smiled softly, looking into the other’s eyes, or, in one case, sunglasses.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, reaching up for them. Crowley nodded as he pulled them away, leaving his brilliant, beautifully yellow eyes bare to observe. There were still some tears in his eyes, and it tugged at Aziraphale’s heart to see him so raw, so open and vulnerable. He was going to say it, what he had wanted to say for all too long but never could. Before he lost his courage, he promised himself he would say it, right there and then.

Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheek, looking him straight in the eyes. “Crowley, I love you.”

And with those four words, Crowley placed his hand on the back of Aziraphale’s head, tangling his fingers in his hair, leaning in.

And they kissed. They kissed for the first time in 6000 years.

They poured everything they couldn’t say into that kiss, Aziraphale looping his other arm around him desperately and Crowley pressing closer, trying to be as near to each other as possible. They pull away, their heads together and smiling with pure joy.

Crowley gives a small laugh, tears running down his face again, “I love you Aziraphale, I have for a long time.”


	4. The Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much cuddling and softness to ensue here

Neither knew what to say, and they realized how much tension there was between them right after it dissipated. They both became remarkably calm, and figured that whatever tomorrow might bring, they could take it.

After the tension disappeared, they also realized how badly they needed to sleep.

Crowley showed them to his spacious, dark bedroom, and Aziraphale could barely stumble out a half spoken protest before the demon smiled at him, reassuring him that it was okay. He didn’t get much further after that. They were on their own side, and Aziraphale felt more comfortable, more _safe_ around Crowley than any other being.

Crowley miracled the soot off his clothes, hair and skin, then took off his jacket and pointed shoes, placing them in a corner. He turned sleepily to gaze at Aziraphale, who had done the same with his own coat, waistcoat and shoes.

Crowley was about to slither under the covers, but stopped midway. “You’re okay with this? With being next to a demon?” Crowley questioned, his eyes betraying his questioning tone. Even now, he looked unsure, and yet so, so desperate. He was putting his own wants aside for Aziraphale, because he wanted him to feel safe, and not to regret anything. 

“My dear, it’s not just a demon. It’s _you_. I _want_ this. To be with you, as long as you do too.” Crowley smiled and simply nodded. 

They slipped into bed, Aziraphale putting his arms once again around the demon. Crowley snuggled into his chest, taking his other hand lightly into both of his own and twining their fingers. The angel smiled, practically glowing with happiness as he swooped down to place a kiss on Crowley’s jawline. Then he pressed his lips to his neck, and trailed up to his cheek. The best part was, in Aziraphale’s opinion, the beautiful expression he got from Crowley every time he placed one on his skin. 

Crowley slid his legs to bracket Aziraphale’s own behind him, trying to be as comfortably close as possible. He was so _warm_ and so bright, like the sunshine hitting the rocks he rested on as the Snake of Eden, the heat seeping into his delicate scales and making him feel plain _happy_. He turns his angel’s hand and presses his lips against the back of it, then placing another on his golden ring.

Crowley tries not to pass out instantly from how tired and cosy he felt. He stopped _time_ today, helping to defeat his former boss Satan, and he was having a hard time not drifting off, especially adding the factor that his corporation was used to sleeping by now. He had never had so much _contact_ with another being before, and never the love of his life, which if he didn’t feel so happy and so _loved_ at that time would have probably been overwhelming. Yet surprisingly, it was the opposite sensation. It was _perfect_ , and it felt _right_. 

He tried to take in as much as he could, as he knew this fight was a losing battle. Aziraphale’s arms enveloping him. His soft breathing tickling his neck. The feel of his legs and hands intertwined with his own and the chin resting in his fiery hair. The memories of gentle kisses and gazing into a set of shining blue-grey eyes. 

And just like that, Crowley was asleep in his arms.  
———————————————————-

Aziraphale, as much as he wanted to, on the other hand couldn’t fall asleep. It wasn’t entirely his fault, as technically their corporations didn’t _need_ sleep, but the toll of the day nevertheless weighed heavily on him. Resting should recharge him enough, and he had never felt more calm than right then. 

His mind, however, had other ideas.

Within a few hours he had formulated a plan, taking in all of the information. He silently thanked Agnes Nutter and even their former bosses for showing them a hint of how connected Heaven and Hell truly were. He needed to wake Crowley, but he looked so peaceful. All the usual tension in his face had faded away, leaving a demon who didn’t look very demonic, all stress appearing to have simply vanished. He also didn’t want to get up from that position, but unfortunately this was extremely urgent. 

Sighing, Aziraphale began to pet Crowley’s hair and gently shake him awake like he did on the bus. “Crowley, Crowley please I’m so sorry my dear but this is rather important.” He continued shaking him until he heard a small grunt, and then the demon turned over so that they were facing each other, his eyes still closed. “‘Z’iraphale” he whispered. Crowley gripped his arm tighter, and then suddenly his slitted eyes shot open as if surprised to find him there.

“I have a plan,” Aziraphale started, still petting the back of his head, “ I know how we can survive today.”  
—————————————————

They switched corporations and practiced imitating each other for only a couple of hours. Both found it more simple than they would have suspected. Crowley complained multiple times about Aziraphale’s good posture, and yet managed quite well. In no time, Crowley wished Aziraphale luck, not exchanging much contact since he found it weird to embrace himself, but both knew how nervous they were. Crowley promised to scout out the remains of the bookshop, and then meet at the rendezvous point around noon.

This had better work.

————————————————————————

They managed to get through the trials, and when both saw each other on the bench it took all their willpower to not break cover until they were sure they were safe. They switched back to their respective corporations, taking the minute to get used to their form again. 

On their walk to the Ritz, Crowley took Aziraphales’s hand and pulled him close. They survived. They were _free_ , and they never had to hide again.

—————————————————————-

Crowley called to the waiter for more champagne as they dined, and he had never felt more lovestruck in his life.

“Crowley, we made it,” Aziraphale proclaimed, “we made it.”

He turned his head to look at him better, a sappy smile spreading that wouldn’t leave anytime soon. “We made it angel.” He echoed to solidify the thought. It felt too incredible. 6000 years, and they could finally be the versions of themselves they always wanted to be.

The waiter came around and refilled their glasses.

“I’d like to think that none of this would have worked out if you weren’t, at heart, just a _little_ bit, of a _good_ person.”

“And if you weren’t, deep down, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.”

“Cheers, to the world.”

“To the _world_.”


End file.
